


Party at the Manor

by Fiddles



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Human Bill Cipher, M/M, Magic, Older Dipper Pines, Older!Pacifica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3889624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiddles/pseuds/Fiddles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man, a woman and a humanoid pyramid walk into a Manor.</p><p>A short, kinda fluffy Dipper/Bill crack fic, along with Pacifca's crash course in sorcery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Dipper scratched his head awkwardly. He didn’t like all these fancy-pants parties, he just couldn’t see the point; here he was –at the Northwest Manor- miles away from his soft pillow, waiting outside in smart albeit uncomfortable clothing. He tugged at his collar in a desperate attempt to loosen it, though eventually gave up with a deep sigh. A few raindrops stained his tux with small, dark inklings of water. Of course he had a good reason for coming; several paranormal disturbances had been reported around the area and he had been asked to investigate. Unfortunately for him that included getting into the Manor itself, something he could well do without. Getting his hands dirty for the sake of those two snooty bastards was bad enough, without also having to bear their condescending sneers and plastic smiles. Dipper didn’t want to go in. He’d already checked every square inch _outside_ the Manor for that very purpose unable to find anything even remotely unusual. Now, after hours of foraging through plant life, carefully examining each brick on the outer walls, checking the patterns on the peacocks’ wings and sprinkling magic dust around -in the vain hope that the problem somehow solves itself- he was finally out of options. Clearing his throat, Dipper tried the door knocker one more time. Nothing. He leaned closer. From behind the aging wood, Dipper could make out two arguing voices, one of which he immediately recognized as Pacifica’s.

“What do you mean he’s not allowed in??” she shouted “ ** _I’ve_** invited him, so he gets in!”

A desperate butler tried, in very hushed but anxious tones, to explain how the Mr. and Mrs. Northwest had been very explicit with their wish to keep out all parties off the guest list. This only seemed to make things worse.

“Listen to me you two-legged oaf” she barked “I am Pacifica Elise Northwest and you are my servant. My parents may have employed you, but I can very easily let you go. Now, either you let my friend in or I’ll spend the rest of the evening writing **_several_** very compromising references”

There was a pause, shortly followed by the sound of someone apologizing and swallowing their ever-decreasing concept of pride. Yep, that was Pacifica alright; short-tempered, loud, demanding and almost certainly evil. She hadn’t changed a bit since high school, Dipper thought. The doors swung open, as a warm light poured out into the cold accompanied by the pleasant chatter of royals. Evil, but in a good way, thought Dipper and smiled.

Inside, the Manor had been bigger than he recalled. The decorations were certainly more extravagant; large obsidian pillars stood where the totem poles once had been, the cider-spewing fountains were now bigger and more intricate in their design, the stuffed animal trophies had been understandably removed and replaced with statues of rich people looking constipated. Overall, an incredible amount of effort had gone into making everything as lush and expensive as humanly possible.

A nearby bowing footman glared at him, before turning around and walking away in an air of superiority. Dipper considered the man with overwhelming disdain.

“Hello Dipper” said Pacifica grabbing his attention “Glad you could make it” She was wearing an elegant aegean dress with a silk azure belt and matching sapphire gloves. She didn’t have any earrings.

“Wow” he blurted “you look… great”

“Thanks, you too” she replied “Now that you’re here there are **SO. MANY.** People you **_have_** to meet” she said, grabbing his arm and hurried him off into the room.

“Uh Pacifica, what’s goin-”

“Sssh! Not in front of the guests” she hissed

After they were no longer in earshot of everyone else, Pacifica relaxed her grip on Dipper’s aching arm.

“Ok, **_now_** can you tell me what’s going on?” he asked rubbing some life back into his forearm.

“Look, I know I asked you to help me with whatever’s going on here, but I need you to do it _discretely_ ”

“Discretely?”

“Yes discretely, which means you can’t afford to let anyone know why you’re really here”

“Pacifica **_I_** don’t know why I’m really here. You said there had been incidents spotted outside the Manor, but I haven’t found anything. And what’s with all the secrecy? Are your parents _this_ afraid of ruining the party, or whatever?”

Pacifica opened her mouth to reply but hesitated and stared at her feet

“Pacifica?” said Dipper a touch testily “They **_do_** know I’m here, right?”

She swallowed a couple of times before answering

“No”

“And why didn’t you tell them?”

“I tried ok?” she said raising her voice “I tried to explain that something was wrong, but they wouldn’t listen. Too busy sucking up to that stupid, one-eyed count…”

“Wait, count? What count?” inquired Dipper. Pacifica sighed irritably

“Just some posh guest of ours, Count von something something” she rubbed her temples angrily “Can you believe that they actually thought I was crazy when I asked them to call you? Me. Crazy. After I saved everyone from Mr. ghost creep that one time”

“Why do you think your parents would suck up to him?” he asked, ignoring her

“I don’t know, something about him being important” she said, waving her hand vaguely in the air “Doesn’t matter, it’s not why I called you here”

“Ok… why did you call me here?”

Pacifica paused. She looked around to make sure no one was listening and then walked up to him, staring straight into Dipper’s eyes.

“Dipper I-I know this might sound crazy” she began “but I hear voices at night” there was a short pause.

“Wait what?”

“It’s true Dipper, you’ve got to believe me” she pleaded “No one else can hear them and it’s been driving me insane! I haven’t slept for days Dipper. DAYS” she said, flailing her arms around “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get some shut-eye when there’s someone constantly screaming in your ear??”

Unable to stop himself, Dipper broke into laughter. Pacifica stared.

“What…?” she asked expressionlessly “Why are you laughing?”

“Sorr-pfffff. Sorry” he smirked “I couldn’t restrain myself. Man I can’t believe you called me here just for that”

Pacifica was lost “What?”

“Look, from what you said this is a category 3 at most” said Dipper, producing a glass vial from his coat “All we gotta do is splash the sucker with some of this and boosh! Problem solv-“

He stopped himself, something was wrong. From the corner of his eye he could see it, on overwhelming darkness in a sea of otherwise dim people. He scanned the crowds, trying to locate exactly where it was. It didn’t take him long to find it. Over ahead, in the middle of the room, a single top hat bobbed maliciously among the guests, like a fashionable dorsal fin.

“Uh Dipper?” asked Pacifica, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes “Are you awake?”

Why here? Why now? What was **_he_** even doing at the party? Had he come for the book? If so then Dipper would need to be careful. The top hat motioned closer, swimming through the sea of heads. Dipper swallowed.

“Mmhm” he responded.

“Ok well, the screams are loudest in the attic, so that’s probably the best place to start looking, right?” Pacifica looked at him expectantly, but Dipper was no longer listening. His full attention was now occupied by the hat and its path towards him. It drifted through the people, edging ever closer.

“Sure” he muttered.

Pacifica followed his gaze “What are you looking at?” she asked. The hat stopped moving and stepped back into the crowd, vanishing as fast as it appeared.

“Hey, are you alright?” she asked worriedly

Dipper shook himself back into reality “Uh yeah… yeah” he stuttered, staring at his hands as if he’d just realized they were there “Terrific”. He took another look at the room before turning to face her.

“Uh. Sorry, erm something just came up” he said half-lost in thought.

“You’re kidding”

“What? Oh yes yes. Great, I’ll leave it to you then” he murmured and rushed off into the throng of people. He then rushed back, handing his book and vial to Pacifica saying “You’re going to need these” before storming off again.

She watched him go with unblinking disbelief and grunted heavily. Pacifica examined the glass bottle. It was very small and thin, containing a bright blue liquid that glittered in the candlelight.

“Alright” she said with fierce determination “If he’s not coming then I’ll just do it alone. It’s not like I need him anyway”. She then grabbed a glass of apple cider from a nearby waiter, drank it down in one sip and smashed it onto the floor.

“Somebody clean that” she shouted, dashing for the stairs “I’m off to catch a ghost”


	2. Chapter 2

Dipper shouldered through the chatting royals, each step followed by exclaiming, tutting and shocked looks. And while Dipper ignored most of them, he couldn’t help cracking a smile as he intentionally stepped on several, well-pedicured toes. It was the small things that mattered in life. Finally he stopped in front of a fountain and closed his eyes. This was around where he’d seen him last, so chances were he wouldn’t have gotten far. If Dipper could focus, maybe he’d be able to sense his presence. He steadied his breathing. It was all in the book, Dipper thought, mentally reciting chapter 27 on locating interdimensional demons with supernatural powers.1) He just needed to reach out, let his thoughts drift along the party guests until he found what he was looking for. With his mind’s eye, Dipper groped around the room when he sensed it again; a single dark blot, radiating pure malice, standing out like an honest smile in a manic depressive’s face. A very big and menacing smile, in formal dress, which has somehow achieved omniscience and can control time like nobody’s business. Strange, thought Dipper, he seemed to be directly behin-

He spun round in panic and was faced with a tall, slender figure.

“Hello Pinetree” it said merrily “Looking for someone?”

Several chills went down Dipper’s spine “ **Bill Cipher** ” he spat “what are **_you_** doing here?”

The man-looking deity in front of him let out a condescending chuckle. He was wearing a dark, velvet cloak over a yellow tux with a brick-like pattern. His top hat and smart bow tie were complimented quite well by the large eyepatch on his right eye, which seemed to stay on without the need of a leather strap around Bill’s head.

“Doing, dear Pinetree?” he said feigning surprise “Why, I was invited here by our esteemed hosts!” he said with a grin, adding “Which is more than I can say for you. Tell me, how _did_ you sneak in?”

Dipper’s knuckles whitened “Listen here you anthropomorphic cenotaph. I don’t know what you’re planning, but when I find out, I **_will_** stop you. Make no mistake”

“How rude!” said Bill smiling “You speak to me as if I’m some sort of scoundrel. And here I am, going out of my way to make polite conversation”. A probably-wooden cane materialized in his hands with a blue flash of magic that nobody seemed to notice.

“Really Pinetree, sometimes I wonder if you even care”

“What do you want with the Northwests, Bill?” said Dipper, glaring at him.

“Oh nothing much; a luxurious bed, some warm hospitality and maybe an ancient family keepsake, or two, on my way out. You know” he said resting his chin on the cane “the usual”

“If you’re thinking about getting your greedy hands on the Northwest ceremonial dagger, then you can think again, _your Highness_ ” he said scathingly.

“So you know about that” Bill mused flashing a chesterine grin “and you even figured out my fake identity. My oh my Pinetree! I’m impressed” he said, slightly tipping his hat “Keep this up and I might even consider possessing your body again”

Dipper’s brow furrowed “Don’t you dare” he said darkly “I’m not your **_puppet_** , Pyramidhead”

“I believe this calls for celebration” said Bill ignoring him and offered Dipper a hand “Care to dance?”

He crossed his arms “Why should I?”

Bill shrugged “Because it’s a party, we’d look cute together and really…” he paused, checking his watch “how else are you going to make sure that I **_don’t_** make off with the dagger?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1)There was no chapter on how to beat one.


	3. Chapter 3

Pacifica crept around the Manor attic, desperately trying to avoid making any noise. Of course the heels didn’t help. Nor, for that matter, did the dress. Never had she been so aware of her footing than right now; each step sounded like a gun firing, as the creaking planks groaned under her modest –yet still quite straining- weight. Each move sent a deafening blast of sound across the otherwise silent room, closely followed by muttered swearing and the sharp inhaling of air. The attic was filled with old paintings, broken grandfather clocks and dusty furniture.2) Actually the dust was quite central to the overall theme; it was on the floor, walls and ceiling, it covered all objects inside with a thick layer of gray fur and it had also probably replaced oxygen in the room’s air. As she loudly tiptoed around a large crate, Pacifica made a mental note have the place demolished, then stomped on, then burnt, then reused to build a small statue of her parents, then stomped again. Eventually, she stopped in front of a large stuffed bear and consulted the book. It took her some time to find the right entry and even when she did, it didn’t make much sense.

“Don’t startle her” she read aloud, torch held in one hand and book and vial in the other “What the hell does that mean?”

A sudden shiver went down her spine, as the room swiftly grew colder. A chilling mist rose through the floorboards, as icy patches formed around her feet. She could hear a distant, hollow wail, one that seemed to be getting closer. Pacifica took several steps back. It was coming. The mist grew thicker. The wailing, louder. Through the foggy haze, she could just about make out a small figure motioning towards her.

“H-hello?” she stuttered. There was no response.

Pacifica bit her lip. Something was wrong. While she couldn’t exactly _see_ the man-shaped blur in front of her, she **_knew_** it was staring right at her. No, not at, **_through_** her, as if it peered into the deepest recesses of her very soul.

“Dipper? Is that you?” she ventured. It wasn’t.

The figure screamed, as a violent gust of wind knocked her back into a wall.

“Uuugh... I’ll take that as a no” she said weakly.

The screaming continued, causing the wooden floor to crack and splinter. Pacifica put her hands over her ringing ears, as she staggered back on her feet. She reached out for the vial, but it shattered in her grasp. The figure was right in front of her now, glowing and floating and screaming its intangible lungs out, in frequencies almost above the range of human hearing. Pacifica yelled from the pain, but her cries were drowned by the deafening apparition. She stared at it helplessly as it reached out to touch her. Even at this distance it was no more than an obscure outline of a human body. Two bright, arm-like smudges inched to her neck, as she felt a warm liquid slowly oozing through her gloves. That’s it, she thought, the ointment! As the figure touched her, Pacifica thrust her hands in its featureless head.

It screamed in agony, but this time with more than one voice. Streams of curling smoke rose from where the two connected, as it fizzled and hissed out of existence. There was a strong blast of energy, which blew Pacifica unto a pile of torn cushions and ruined upholstery. The mist cleared up. The screaming was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2)Nearly all of which were rendered much more intimidating under the light of her torch.


	4. Chapter 4

Dipper danced around the room with suppressed –albeit seething- anger. His feet moved elegantly across the floor, though not entirely of his own volition. Dipper glared at his partner, who was currently smiling profusely.

“Admit it Pinetree” Bill said “You’re enjoying yourself”

“Not as much as you are”

Bill’s smile grew wider “So you **_are_** enjoying yourself”. He held him closer “Wonderful”

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you” he retaliated “Just be glad that Mabel’s not  here to help me beat you”

“My dear Pinetree” Bill began, as they glided past another dancing couple “If you want to bring me down, I’m sure you can manage well enough on your own”

“Nothing would make me happier” Dipper growled.

Bill laughed audibly “Hahahah! Pinetree, you’d have to buy me dinner first”

The two twirled around each other, engulfed in the violins, the piano and the soft trumpets. Dipper eyed a group of people that snickered loudly and made several comments on his trademark birthmark. Bill noticed his expression shift, as the group moved on to talk about Dipper’s unkempt hair instead.

“Everything all right Pinetree?” he asked “Not tired already are you?”

“Oh **_I’m_** fine” he said, half-gnashing his teeth “that bigoted chatter, however, is not”

Bill smirked “Chatter dear Pinetree? What chatter?”

Dipper nodded in the direction of the group in question and prepared to launch into a semi-rehearsed speech about snooty, condescending royals, but stopped himself. He could no longer hear any chattering. In fact, he couldn’t hear anything besides Bill’s laughter and his own pulse. Dipper glanced momentarily at the circle of people around them. They weren’t moving.

“What did you do?” he inquired, turning back to Bill

“Who? Me?” Bill grinned “Oh I just paused time for a second. Well, it will **_seem_** like a second anyway”

“I got that, but why?”

Bill spun him round. Somehow the music was still playing.

“I found the assembly of rich buffoons to be… distracting”

“Distracting? From what?” he asked.

“You”

A long, stuffed silence followed. Time slowed down around them (though less literally) and neither could hear any sound anymore. They simply stared at each other.

Bill’s golden hair swayed in the soft breeze. His gleaming eyes were focused directly at Dipper, lips forming a faint smile. Dipper’s cheeks flushed over, his haphazard breathing slowed down and steadied. His delicate hands weren’t sweating or shaking, but rested easy on Bill’s shoulder and waist. Bill gingerly stroked Dipper’s hair with one hand, placing the other on his nape. They closed their eyes. Dipper leaned in.

The world moved, though not only metaphorically. The fountains started working again, the guests resumed talking. Strangely, no one seemed to noticed the kissing couple in the middle of the room. Eventually, Dipper righted him and backed away, panting. Bill wheezed for air and chuckled weakly.

“I- *huff* I guess that’s why they call you *huff* Dipper”

Dipper couldn’t help laughing, as he also tried to catch his breath.

“I- *huff* I didn’t see this coming” said Bill

“No, neither did I” he replied.

They kissed again. And again. And then several times after that.


	5. Chapter 5

After a considerable amount of mental effort, Pacifica opened her eyes and stared at the wooden beams on the ceiling. She was most certainly alive; she could tell from her pounding heart and aching head. Pacifica placed her weight on a nearby sofa, got up and walked away from the collapsed tower of pillows. A glance at the ruined floor reminded her that no, she wasn’t hallucinating and yes, she had just murdered a ghost. Pacifica looked down at her hands and saw that the gloves had disintegrated along with her attacker. A few smoldering piles of ashes stood where the ghost had been, glowing faintly in the darkness. Pacifica stamped over them angrily and with intent.

“Good riddance” she said, picking up the book.

She headed for the exit, but something caught her eye as she did. A dim, blue light shone form a small, musty corner of the room, its slow blinking illuminating the discarded furniture around it. Was there another ghost? Pacifica approached with caution, holding out the book as a makeshift bludgeoning club. She leapt round the corner in an attempt to catch it off guard, but found a large open chest instead. The strange glow seemed to be coming from inside it and it grew brighter as she walked closer. 

“Great” she groaned “just what I needed. A flashing light to go with my throbbing migraine”

She shut her eyes and reached into the blinding light, groping for the chest’s contents. Her finger brushed against something cold and metallic. She grabbed hold of it and pulled it out, as the light faded away. Gingerly, she opened her eyes and examined the newly-discovered artifact. From the looks of it, that was a dagger, one with an intricate –if somewhat generic- design. The hilt felt unusually comfortable to grip, the blade itself was sharp and dyed an incredibly vivid green. Pacifica noticed a few runic inscriptions on its side and realized, with great surprise, that she could understand them. She also noticed that her headache was gone and that her gloves had somehow re-grown into long, glovelette versions of themselves. Was that the dagger? Pacifica swung it experimentally at a tasteless painting of a tree, which then violently burst into flames and was swiftly reduced to ash. 

Pacifica swore under her breath “Ok, ok. Bad idea.” she tucked the dagger in a sheath she was certain her dress didn’t have before. “Better get this to Dipper before I blow myself up”

She quickly got out of the attic and headed for the banqueting hall, which was a lot more crowded than she remembered. Pushing through the guests, she looked for Dipper with a mixed feeling of panic and excitement, eventually spotting him next to the west wing staircase. Currently, he was pressed against the wall by someone Pacifica couldn’t recognize and they were both very passionately making out. Bizarrely, no one else seemed to notice them and whenever she’d try to remember who that stranger was, her mind would simply go blank. Regardless, they appeared to be in need of some privacy, so she decided to let them be for now. Of course Dipper was certainly going to get a stern talking-to later; she could have gotten herself killed in that fight, yet here he was, snogging someone (who was presumably a noble) with complete disregard to her safety. Oh he wasn’t getting out of this one easily. 

Pacifica sighed and went to find a private spot for herself, away from the buzzing party. After sitting down she opened the book and produced the dagger from its custom-designed hiding spot. According to the tome, this was the Northwest ceremonial dagger, used to perform any number of cantrips and mystical rituals in the old days. It was so powerful, in fact, that it had to be locked away, as its wielder could accomplish practically any task and destroy any thing. Pacifica wasn’t sure how secure the attic was for this particular discarded item, suspecting that her parents either didn’t know or care about it. She felt, however, compelled to test its power. After all, it was her right as a Northwest.

She got up and walked towards one of the servants.

“Albert” she beckoned, pointing at the dagger “Could you please describe to me what this is?”

“Of course my Lady, that is a glass of apple cider, the finest available in town”

Pacifica smiled “Thank you Albert. Now would you be so kind as to have someone mop the wine off the floor?” A crimson pool formed behind them. 

“Wine? What wi- oh. Erm, certainly your Ladyship”

“Thank you Albert” she said, waving him away “that will be all”

The servant bowed a few times and then left.

Pacifica waited until he was out of sight before she grinned “Well, well” she said darkly “this is interesting”


	6. Chapter 6

Dipper walked down the marble stairs and out into the garden. His hair was more rugged than before and his suit was scruffier than he thought. However, according to recent cosmetic feedback, those features only made him more attractive, so he didn’t mind much. Dipper looked up at the sky and the shining stars, waiting for his partner. This had been one crazy party.

Several bushes around him then exploded into a thick shower of tiny icicles. Dipper spun round.

“Oh sorry” said Pacifica apologetically “I didn’t see you there”

Dipper was confused “Pacifica?”

“Hello lover boy” she said condescendingly, hovering towards him “’Sup?”

Dipper was lost “Wha- how are you floating?” he managed

“Oh Dipper” she said touching down “that is a very long tale full of twists and turns. Speaking of which, we need to have a little chat”

Dipper swallowed. It was incredible how she managed to make the word _chat_ sound like so much like _public execution._

“Oh?”

“Yes. Remember that so-called category 3 ghost you sent me after?” she said icily.

Dipper cleared his throat “Um, yeah? Why? Did it give you magic powers?”

“No” she replied, dismissing the sarcasm “Turns out it was a category **_5_**! You remember fives, don’t you Dipper? They’re the things almost as bad as what we had fought, though not quite”

“Ummm”

“So, while you were smooching your eyes out, **_I_** was busy fighting for my life against a homicidal b-”

“Wait” he interrupted “you know about that?”

“ _Not the point Dipper!_ ” she shouted “ _I nearly got **killed**!_ ”

“Well I’m sorry, but how is this all my fault?”

“ _How_!? Dipper you left me **_alone_**. Even if you thought that I was in no real danger, you should have **still** come”

“Look, something popped up ok?”

“Oh I’m _sure_ **_something_** popped up” she said scathingly

“Hey, don’t take that tone with me! I couldn’t know that I’d be-”

“Wrong?”

“It’s not my fault a haunter attack you, Pacifica”

“Yeah, but it’s your fault you weren’t there to help”

“I was busy!”

“More like _getting_ busy”

The sound of someone chuckling came from behind them “Oh dear me. Am I interrupting?” They both turned around. It was Bill.

“Oh great!” Pacifica protested “Now _he’s_ here”

“Now, now Lady Northwest” said Bill smiling “remember your manners”

“Bill, now’s really not the time” Dipper hissed.

“Nonsense Pinetree!” he scoffed “Now’s the perfect time to watch the party fireworks. Look, I even brought us our drinks” He passed Dipper his glass.

“Wait, you two know each other?”

Bill’s smile grew wider “You could say that”

Pacifica tried to concentrate on Bill’s face. Something about his getup seemed familiar. She focused harder and tried to remember. And then it hit her like a sack of bricks on a piano.

“You **_banged_** the count??”

“What? No! We didn’t _bang_ ” Dipper began

“That’s not how I remember i-owww!” said Bill, as Dipper elbowed him meaningfully.

“Look, he’s not really a count and we didn’t really bang” he explained “We just, sort of… fooled around a bit…”

“Yeah, for about an hou- _OW_!”

“In fact, he’s not even human, so I’m not sure if _bang_ is the proper term”

Pacifica gasped and laughed nervously “OH MY GOD YOU BANGED THE COUNT!”

“He’s not a count!” Dipper said defensively

“I’m **_your_** c- _OW!_ ”

Pacifica began wheezing, as she had difficulty breathing “Hoooo. Ok, ok pffff-hahAHAHAHA”

“Stop laughing!”

“Hoooo boy!” she exclaimed “Wow, I just. Wow. That’s some refined taste you got there Dipper”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of i- ** _OOW_**!”

“Will you just shut up?” Dipper hissed through his teeth

“Ok guys, I’m just gonna… leave you two alone” she said, backing away “You two obviously need _a lot_ of privacy”

“No wait, Pacifica don-“ he began, but she had already disappeared in a puff of smoke before he could finish. A few scented candles and a rose lied on the spot where she previously stood.

“Ugh! What is it with her? She always does this” Dipper groaned.

“Her? What’s with you?” Bill asked, rubbing some life back into his arm.

“Look, I’m sorry if I hurt you-”

“ ** _If_**?? Pinetree, I feel like my nerve endings are bleeding acid”

“ ** _but_** I didn’t want her to get excited over this and start doing… well that”

“That?” Bill inquired

“Yes that.” Dipper sighed “She always does it when I meet someone”

“You mean the disappearing into smoke thing, or the candles?”

“I mean the whole always trying to fix me up with someone thing”

“Why?”

“It’s just, I know she means well, but she can sometimes get really intense about my dates”

“How intense?”

“Oh you don’t wanna know” he replied darkly.

“Well, if I were you” said Bill, putting an arm around Dipper’s shoulder “I’d be more worried about her newfound affinity for the dark arts”

“Yeah” said Dipper, thinking aloud “What was that about?”

Bill took a few sips from his glass “If I had to guess, I’d say our Lady Northwest has found herself a dagger”

Dipper turned to face him “You don’t mean…”

Bill nodded, drinking the remaining drops.

“If you’re right, then we need to stop her before she gets herself hurt” he said, downing his drink in one swig “Wait, is this Le Romanée Pinot noir?”

“My, what a perceptive tongue you’ve got Pinetree”

“You think you can get me drunk on ridiculously expensive wine?”

Bill grinned “One way to find out”


	7. Chapter 7

Pacifica examined her surroundings. This was not France. She was pretty sure she aimed for France and this was most certainly not it; there was a striking lack of baguettes and accordions. No, what she was currently in seemed less like the Eifel Tower and more like a bog-themed dungeon, populated entirely by dusty cobwebs and quite possibly the screams of the damned.

A cracked cobblestone floor spanned from her feet to the dripping, mossy walls, mirroring the equally cracked and similarly rocky ceiling. A few green mushrooms glowed eerily around her, providing the only source of light in the room, besides the dim torches. Pacifica shuddered. This place didn’t feel right.

“All right Eris3)” she said unsheathing the dagger “what’s this all about?”

The dagger hummed silently. It was the sort of hum that people make when they stare at you sheepishly, though involving considerably less eye contact.

“Take me to France” she commanded, clutching the knife in the air. Nothing happened.

Pacifica tried again “Eris? France please?” still nothing.

“How about Sweden?” she ventured “Or China? Malaysia? Canada? Germany? Australia?”

The dagger didn’t respond.

“Skaia?” she said desperately. Several sets of red eyes blinked from the darkness “Please Eris, take me anywhere! Anywhere that isn’t here”

A glowing, red rune flashed behind her, as the wall clicked and slid open, revealing a large set of descending stairs. Pacifica weighed her options; she could either a) stay up here in the dark and probably dangerous room or b) go down the darker and probably even more dangerous steps.

“Eris” she muttered, slowly walking forwards “there had better be cake4) at the end of this, or I’m removing your TV privileges”

The dagger vibrated softly.

“All right, I’ll grant you TV privileges, _then_ remove them”

Countless of strange, floating lights appeared throughout the hidden staircase walls as Pacifica went inside.

“Did we do that?” she thought aloud “Wait, actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know”

After a few moments the wall closed behind her with a booming thud. Pacifica pressed on, clutching her shaking hands still. She advanced deeper and deeper into the unknown, though only because her magic hadn’t worked on the rust-ridden bricks. At times, she found the stairway almost impossible to navigate, as its direction kept changing and the number of dimensions it operated on constantly fluctuated. It was almost as if the path ahead twisted and turned, reshaping itself on its own volition. No, not just the path (for that’s what the stairs had turned into) but everything; time sped and slowed down, light stretched and shrunk, sound amplified and disappeared. Eventually, the stairs -previously path- now oblong elevator, stopped in front of an enormous hollow cavern. Pacifica sighed in relief, it was good to be able to see in 3D again.

“Ok Eris what gives?” she asked irritably “First you trap me in the trip-case, now you want me to go inside the spooky cave. Should I expect to fight a leather clad version of my father, with breathing problems and a massive glow stick at the end of this?

The dagger gleamed in response

“I didn’t **_ask_** for this!” she shouted “ _You_ were the one that brought **me** here, or did the underground oubliette simply materialize around us out of thin air?”

The dagger hummed, though this time in angrier and more commanding decibels.

“Test? What test?” she demanded “Eris, please don’t tell me this is going to be one of those _prove your worth_ things”

The dagger was silent.     

“Eris??”

A cool breeze blew from the cavern, sending a thick fog across the ground. Malicious scuttling echoed in the distance and Pacifica felt as though hundreds of eyes were watching her every move. That’s because they were.

“Fine” she announced to the presumed crowds “I’ll go along with your stupid test. Just make sure to get me home once I’m done”

Pacifica boldly strode forth into the cave. Then, boldly realizing that this was a bold -yet bad- idea, she boldly attempted to run back out. Alas, the entrance was gone, replaced by a very thick, very solid and very, very vertical surface, as Pacifica boldly concluded by boldly kicking and throwing rocks at it. This is bad, she thought, but in a bold manner which showcased exceptional courage, valour and bravery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3)Having read too many fantasy novels, Pacifica knew that every great blade must have a name and had therefore taken it upon herself to come up with one for her own. The reason why she conversed with said sword-like weapon still remains unknown and –hopefully- will continue to be so.
> 
> 4)Pacifica too had been a slave to sugary confections.


	8. Chapter 8

Bill and Dipper were lying on the soft, cool grass, finishing their second bottle of Pinot noir, whilst watching shooting stars flash by. They were currently engaged in the bastion of philosophical conversation that are drunken arguments.

“I juss donne getit” said Bill, refilling their glasses.

“Get what?” Dipper asked, unsuccessfully trying to balance the top hat on his head.

“Tha name’s not right, is it?”

“You wot?”

“The name” Bill repeated “It’s not left. Wrong. Right!” he struggled for words

“Why?”

“Well it doesn’t ‘ave peanuts in, does it?”

Dipper stared “Peanuts?”

“You know, the wine” Bill explained “Says it’s got peanuts in the name, but it doesn’ even taste like peanuss”

“Peanuts” Dipper corrected.

“Yeah, that”

There was a long pause as they both tried to remember which of the two was talking and what about.

“So as I was saying” Bill continued “the name’s wrong”

“What name?”

“The wine”

“Oh”

Another pause, this time to drink and re-refill their glasses.

“So whaddayou suggest?” Dipper asked.

“Pardon?”

“Fore the wine” he explained “What ought it be called?”

Bill gave this some thought.

“I d’nno” he said lamely.

“How ‘bout **_wine_**?” Dipper offered.

“Wine?”

“Yah”

Bill smiled, though mostly out of reflex.

“Le Romanée **_WINE_** noir” he giggled “I like it”

“Direct and to the punt. Point” Dipper added.

“What is a Romane anywhay?” Bill wondered aloud.

“I think it’s a type of food” Dipper replied uncertainly.

“Naah” Bill slurred “It’s one of ‘em yard places”

“Vineyards?”

“Yeah that. Big places” he said, gesturing with both hands “ Really big places that are…”

“Big?” Dipper asked, re-railing his train of thought.

“Yah, with like” he paused, concentrating “lotsof yardvines!”

“Vineyards”

“Yeah that. Tons of vines, all full of yards, as far as the eye can see” he said, waving his hand in front of him.

“Which eye?”

“Hmm?”

“As far as which eye can see?”

“Oh” said Bill. He wasn’t prepared for such direct questions “Any eye I guess” he decided “Every eye”

“Nah, that can’t be right” Dipper pressed “Not if you’re wearing glasses”

“As far as any eye and/or aided eye can see” Bill tried “I guess that works”

“Wait, wait” said Dipper, shaking one finger “What about bugs?”

“Bugs?”

“Yeah bugs” he said satisfied “they ain’t exactly got eyes, do they?”

“Fine” said Bill “as far as any aided or unaided eye-like instrument can see”

“And then there’s moles”

“As far as any sense-related organs can detect”

“And, like, plankton”

“ ** _As far as any living creature can perceive, within their ability to perceive them as such_** ” Bill shouted “Happy?”

“I guess” Dipper said, mulling it over.

“Hey, weren’t we s’posed to do… something” he said eventually.

“Like what?”

“I dunno” he said, trying to remember “something important. Starts with a P”

“Important doesn’t start with a P” Bill pointed out.

Dipper ignored him “Pas-something”

“Pasta?”

“No. More like Pasi-something, there’s an –if- in there too”

“What, like Pacific?” 

“Yeah, that” said Dipper, still somewhat unsure.

“What would **_we_** do in the Pacific? I mean, you can’t even breathe underwater”

“Oh I don’t know” said Dipper, giving up “Who cares, it was prob’ly nothing anyway”

“Plus there’s no way I’d be able to get us there like _this_ ” Bill began “what with me bein’ all tipsy an’ such”

Dipper yawned ”Mmhm” he managed, taking off the hat and resting his head on Bill’s chest.

The stars above twinkled merrily, like tiny fireflies stuck in the sky. Of course they both knew stars were just violent explosion times, set against the background of dark, empty space, but that didn’t make them any less beautiful. At least, not to those two.

“Hey Dipper?” Bill said

“Hhmm?”

“This is nice”

They smiled.

“Yeah”


	9. Chapter 9

Pacifica dodged the oncoming strikes, using her currently-flaming dagger to block the ones she couldn’t evade. She was cornered. The giant spiders were expected, the screeching ghouls were manageable, the chattering skeletons were somewhat unimaginative, but the tentacle monsters was really pushing it; there was a limit to how many sucker-related wisecracks she was prepared to make. An axe-wielding skeleton lunged at her angrily and though she quickly reduced it into calcium-based ashes, several more were there to take its place. Pacifica dashed back to get some more space, but found herself backed against a regrettably solid wall. A massive mouse spider landed in front of her with a deafening thud, brandishing its obsidian fangs hungrily. A shimmering, jade liquid trickled from its mouth, sizzling when it touched the ground.

Pacifica stared in restrained horror. Somewhere from the back of her mind she got the niggling feeling that she was about to die, as bits of her life shot past her vision. Needless to say, the idea didn’t excite her. She clenched the dagger in her hand and then, with lightning-fast movements, sunk the blade into the wall. The arachnid struck, considerably disheartened to find that its fangs were biting -not into a soft, fleshy human- but rather a bright, yellow bubble that was surprisingly resilient. The spider screeched and wiggled its legs around, desperately trying to free itself as the other creatures approached. Pacifica reviewed the situation; the ward wasn’t going to last long -especially not with all the noise spidey here was making- and as soon as it wore off she’d be surrounded by a lot of scary, angry things that weren’t very nice. Her armour5) would take them another 20 seconds to tear and/or crunch through, which meant that she’d need to look for the book. Fast. The only problem was that she didn’t exactly know where it was.

After reading up on the basics of phenomena-manipulation, she’d decided that experimentally lobbing fireballs around with a pack of dead trees in close proximity wasn’t the soundest of life choices. Thus she had teleported the book somewhere _safe_ , according to the botched writing on page 322, somewhere no one could find it. Turns out, safeguards that extreme were proving somewhat impractical in the long run.

“It’s alright” she said to herself, failing to speak above the incessant scratching “You can do this. You figured all that other stuff out on your own, so why not this too?”

A few sparks of weakening magic flashed around her “It’s fine” she said, trying to relax “you just need to calm down, concentrate and-”

Wild gusts of wind blew around her, as a purple smoke rose from her fingertips, dancing around her hand and forming unfamiliar shapes. Her makeshift shield fizzled and grew unstable, producing several unsettling noises. The gathered monstrosities paused to look at the distorted space of smoke and raw energy that Pacifica previously occupied. There was a violent explosion of blinding light, shattering the barrier and blasting everything around it into smithereens. Pacifica stared at the result.

“Oh” she managed eventually “Did I do that?”

She looked down at her hands to find that they were holding a bulky, leather-bound object. She had summoned the book.

A rising howl snapped her back into reality, as she looked around in panic. More of them were coming.

Pacifica glanced at the dagger. It was glowing a vibrant red and pulsating with furious bloodlust. She smiled, getting up and yanking it out. Several more creatures appeared, very few of which Pacifica could even identify, growling and madly gnashing at her with frothing mouths.

Pacifica pointed the dagger at the assembling abominations. Her hair streamed upwards, her eyes gleaned with determination. She didn’t need to look for the spell, the book did it for her; thick, yellow pages flipping through themselves so fast, it looked like she was holding a paper zoetrope. Finally they stopped and Pacifica grinned, reading out the words.

“Alright you grotesque husks of flesh” she bellowed “Let’s see if L. Frank Baum was right”

The dagger burned red. Her eyes shortly followed.

“There’s no place like h-“

Another explosion raged as she spoke, incinerating any living, unliving and not-quite-dead-yet beings around her. When the white-hot flames died out, Pacifica wasn’t there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5) As soon as it became apparent that she’d be engaged in pretty intense combat, Pacifica figured that her elegant party dress wouldn’t be the most protective and/or maneuverable of clothing. Thus, she concluded, a change of style was in order and she was faced with two option for armour wear: 1) the practical one (i.e. full-body, armour from sturdy –yet still light- alloys, with wristbands and braces) or the aesthetic one (i.e. the garment equivalent of six leather strips and two small saucers) and while she’d love to walk around like an unrealistically-disproportionate lingerie model with overweight underwear, Pacifica opted to go for the option that meant she would actually stay alive.


	10. Epilogue

The grass was as cool as before, the moon was brighter than ever, the relaxing sound of leaves blowing in the warm breeze was still very hypnotizing. Down on the ground, two people –one human, the other not quite- lay together on a small hill, both fast asleep. A colourful explosion of light disturbed the peace and quiet.

“-ome” said a voice. It was Pacifica

“Oh” she said, rubbing her eyes to make sure she wasn’t dreaming “How about that. It worked”

The dagger hummed softly.

“What do you mean cheated?” she demanded “I merely utilized the local resources available”

The dagger disagreed.

“Yeah _whatever_ Eris” she shrugged “The deal was we’d go home if I won and I’m pretty sure that qualified as a vict-“ she stopped, suddenly realizing who she was standing right next to.

“Aaaw” she whispered “Aren’t they just the cutest?”

The dagger glowered at her.

“You’re just jealous because you’re single” she smirked “Come on, let’s not wake them up”

Pacifica walked a short distance away before resuming her conversation, making a mental note to take a picture of those two afterwards.

“So, where were we?”

The dagger throbbed angrily.

“What do you **_mean_** more tests? I thought we agreed on just this one” she protested “Eris please, you can’t expect me to go through all that again. Sure, it was fun, but risking my life **_twice_** in one day has been a bit too much”

The dagger hummed again.

“Yes, yes I know” she said “Blood-sworn duty and all that, but do we really have to be this serious about it?”

The dagger didn’t grace that question with a response.

“ _Fiiine_ ” she sighed “But can I photocopy the book or something? It’s got, like, some really useful stuff in there”

The dagger hesitated.

“Oh don’t worry. I’ll drop by the shack and give it back tomorrow” she said dismissively “And besides, I doubt he’ll remember I even had it” Pacifica winked at the sleeping couple.

“Anyway” she said, her armour reverting back into its original state “back to the party, eh? I wonder if I can instill thoughts of existential dread to anyone round here”

The dagger glowered at her again, as she put it back in its sheath.

“Just kidding Eris” she laughed “Man, you really can’t take a joke”

Turning around, Pacifica took one more look at them and smiled, before walking back inside the Manor.


End file.
